


It Goes Without Saying

by MysteryWriter36



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton Being an Asshole, Angst, Anxiety, Arguements, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, M/M, Nonverbal Communication, one cuss word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 11:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14236425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteryWriter36/pseuds/MysteryWriter36
Summary: Music wasn’t his only coping mechanism, but it was his most effective. Sometimes, however, he didn’t have the opportunity to cope, and hours upon hours of stress and pain built up, until the dam finally broke. Exactly like today, during a conversation with one Alexander Hamilton.Also known as the fic where James doesn’t talk much, and Alexander should learn how to shut his mouth.





	It Goes Without Saying

As a kid, James was always praised for being a convenient, obedient child. His parents rarely had to chase him down or clean up large messes after him, and they found themselves rewarding him for good behavior far more often than punishing him for bad behavior. Of course, as all children, James would have his occasional messes and blunders, but he was considered the perfect child.

Except for the fact that he was talkative. Very talkative. The only times he would ever get in trouble in class would be for talking too much. He was constantly reprimanded for this by teachers and other adults;

“You’re annoying that person.”

“Stop talking so much.”

“Be quiet, James.”

And so he was. By the time he reached fourteen, he rarely spoke unless spoken to, even around his friends. But that didn’t seem to satisfy everyone either;

“Why are you so quiet?”

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Why don’t you talk to anyone anymore?”

Eventually, James gave up on pleasing everyone, and got used to not speaking. So much so that he would spend hours drowning out the noise of the outside world with music, which seemed to be the only thing he could stand to listen to anymore. Everyone else shouted until he had a headache, or spoke so quietly that he would have to ask for them to repeat themselves before he finally processed the speech mid-sentence.

Then there were the times he actually spoke, and people would become exasperated by his use of large words or his interest in obscure or “nerdy” material. Even as a high school senior he was put down by his own peers for explaining things they didn’t understand as if he was trying to treat them like they were idiots.

“You lost me.”

“I don’t understand and I don’t care.”

“Can’t you talk about something someone else understands?”

Everything was just too much. Sometimes, he felt like a conductor, bursting with electricity but unable to find an outlet.

Music wasn’t his only coping mechanism, but it was his most effective. Sometimes, however, he didn’t have the opportunity to cope, and hours upon hours of stress and pain built up, until the dam finally broke. Exactly like today, during a conversation with one Alexander Hamilton.

* * *

“Hey, Madison, when’s that new drama film coming out? The one you told me about.” Alexander asks from his place next to James.

“The Friday after next.” James replies after a moment. He never says much, but Alexander talks enough for the both of them, so he supposed that makes up for it.

“Great, that’s the Friday we get out for Spring Break.”

“No, that’s the next Friday.”

“No, it’s the Friday after next.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes it is. I have it marked on my phone calendar!”

“I have the school calendar at home.” James responds, biting back the frustration building up in him.

Alex pulls out his phone to show James his calendar, and points triumphantly to the Friday two and a half weeks from now.

“ _See?_ ” he says, “The Friday after next.”

“Hamilton, that’s the twenty-third. I’m talking about the sixteenth.” Madison explains. “The movie comes out on the sixteenth, and we get out for Spring Break on the twenty-third.”

“Then why didn’t you just say the movie comes out next Friday?”

“Because the next Friday is three days from now.” James replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“No, that’s this Friday, next Friday would be the Friday of next week.”

“Well that’s how I’ve said it probably all my life.”

Alexander shrugged and turned his attention back to his phone, saying, “Maybe that’s why everyone is always so confused when you speak.”

And there it was; someone who knew James for years, who also confused people with his eloquent and drawn out speech, and knew of James’ anxiety and insecurities about the way he spoke, shattered what little confidence he had mustered up for the day in one blow.

James’ chest tightened and his throat closed up. He couldn’t managed to get it out, but, “Fuck off, Hamilton.” would have been his response. Instead, he went silent and all but physically drew into himself.

When the bell rang, James grabbed his stuff and walked out without a word to Hamilton. He didn’t have any plans to speak to the man for a while. Later that afternoon, when school was finally over, James found Thomas waiting for him at one of the school exits. James locked eyes with him and felt tears well up. He could barely see the grin disappear from Thomas’ features through the blurriness.

Thomas reached out to wrap James in a hug once he grew close enough, and he felt the shorter boy sag against him. He could feel the tears soak into his t-shirt and the warm puffs of breath against his abdomen as James cried.

“Hey,” he whispered, thankful that no one else was around to disturb James further, “It’s okay. I’m right here.” Thomas presses a kiss to the top of James’ head and just holds him for a minute.

“I’m sorry.” James chokes out softly.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, love.”

“I-it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be-“ he’s cut off by his own quiet sobs. “I shouldn’t be crying.”

“Baby, whatever you’re upset about isn’t stupid. Trust me, okay?” Thomas asks, pressing another kiss to James’ head. “Now, lets get you home, have a snack, and relax.” Thomas doesn’t tell James they’ll talk about it. He’s learned to let James choose if he wants to vent his frustrations and sadness or not. Sometimes James wants to cry, or scream into a pillow, or text him angry emojis, or just lie there, and Thomas is okay with all of them.

The ride to James’ house is short and silent, and they’re both thankful to see James’ parents have left for the evening when they pull into the driveway. Thomas carries their backpacks inside, and is greeted with a very clingy and still teary-eyed James as soon as he sets them down. Thomas holds James’ hand as he makes his way through the kitchen, grabbing water and some of their favorite snacks.

Several minutes later, they were comfortably situated on James’ bed. The only sounds in the room were the sounds of food being eaten and the loud melodies bleeding out from the earbud that James didn’t have in. The empty ear was pressed against Thomas’ chest, listening to his heart beat in time with the rhythm of the beat in his other ear. He wasn’t crying anymore, and his breathing was back to normal, but he was certainly no less upset.

Alexander’s words continued to run through his mind, the lyrics he had heard a thousand times doing nothing to block them out. Suddenly, a light tap on his arm pulled him out of his own head. He ran his fingers along the side of his phone until he found the volume button and turned his music down before looking up at Thomas.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Thomas whispered.

James averted his eyes and tapped against Thomas’ chest once, paused, and then tapped two more times.

_Not right now._

Thomas smiled softly and nodded.

_That’s okay._

James settled back into place and turned his music back up, letting himself be engulfed by the music and his boyfriend’s warmth.

Thomas laced his fingers with James’ and gently kissed the back of the other boy’s hand.

_I love you._

James ran his thumb along the back of Thomas’ hand and gently tugged it down to place a soft kiss of his own.

_I love you, too._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed this! You can also find me on my tumblr @mysterywriter36


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